


Hierophant

by xenosaurus



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Child Abandonment, Cross-Generational Friendship, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Horror Elements, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, LGBTQ Themes, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mentors, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, On Hiatus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:36:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11581023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenosaurus/pseuds/xenosaurus
Summary: After a teenaged employee kills a demon in Leblanc's kitchen, Akira finds himself taking on Sojiro's old role in more ways than one.(On Hiatus)





	1. thou hast acquired a new vow

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK AT THIS GREAT ART THIS FIC INSPIRED. [by 4nimenut!](http://4nimenut.tumblr.com/post/164407989473/doodled-future-domestic-shukita-based-from)
> 
> AND MORE GREAT ART, OF THE KIDS THIS TIME! [by snailling!](http://snailling.tumblr.com/post/164527594250/whoops-i-drew-the-kids-xenosaurus)

Since taking over Leblanc from a retired Sojiro, Akira has made a handful of adjustments.  One of them is opening late on Sundays.  It gives him at least one morning a week to spend with Yusuke, and they make good use of it.  They have breakfast together, sleep in, or have sex, depending on the mood.  No matter what they end up doing, it bolsters Akira's spirits for the rest of the day.

So he has to swallow his disappointment over missing their tradition this week.  There's a new part-timer starting at Leblanc this morning, and he needs to teach the kid the bare basics before he can have him on during open hours, even for training.

Akira kisses a half-awake Yusuke goodbye and leaves the apartment, shaking off the bone-deep feeling of remorse.  These things happen, and he's almost 34.  He should be able to handle losing a morning in with his boyfriend without spending the day moping.

The walk to Leblanc only takes about ten minutes, and two people are waiting for him when he gets there.  Morgana’s morning greeting is normal, as he now lives in the room Akira used to call home, but he usually isn't waiting outside the cafe.  It seems that he's interested in scoping out the new worker, judging by the way he's dutifully watching the kid from just outside petting-range.

The second person is, of course, Akira's new part-timer.  His name is Kiyoji Enomoto, and of the three people who applied for this job, he was the only one who didn’t repeatedly ask about free coffee during the followup call. He’s a pretty average teenager— short brown hair, scribbled notes on the back of his hand that he’d clearly tried to wash off, a little bit of soy sauce staining the collar of a shirt clearly worn to impress. His body language is stiff and nervous.

He reminds Akira a little bit of Mishima as a teenager, which immediately endears him to the kid.

“Good morning,” Akira says, which makes Kiyoji jump to attention.

“Good morning, sir!”

Akira laughs and starts unlocking the front door. He sounds like he’s taking orders from a drill sergeant.

“You can relax, I’m not going to bite you.”

“Are you sure about this kid, Akira?” Morgana asks, hopping down from where he’d been hiding. Kiyoji immediately turns his full attention to Morgana, looking shocked.

“Oh, this is Morgana. He lives in the shop,” Akira explains, not bothering to answer Morgana’s question. He’s gotten used to the weird looks he gets when he answers his cat’s meows like a real conversation, but he still likes to avoid it with new people.

“He’s… talkative,” Kiyoji says hesitantly, still staring at Morgana.

“Think he’s afraid of cats?” Morgana asks.

Kiyoji wordlessly shakes his head, as if answering the question. Akira squints at him suspiciously for a moment, before shaking it off. The chances of the random high schooler he hired to help at the cafe being the first person in over a decade to understand Morgana seems very unlikely.

“Come on, let me show you around.”

*

Kiyoji turns out to be an ideal employee. He takes to everything with a single-minded focus broken only by the way he falters whenever Morgana talks. Thankfully, Morgana spends most of his day upstairs, so it doesn’t happen much.

“If you need help remembering which kinds of coffee are which, you can always ask, but I also labeled them for you while you’re getting used to things.”

Kiyoji nods in agreement and goes back to examining the shelves of coffee beans with an intense expression on his face. Akira is pretty sure the kid is trying to memorize the labels right here and now.

“You know there isn’t going to be a test, right?”

Kiyoji flushes a little and nods again.

“I just want to get this right, sir.”

“You can also dial down the formality a little.”

“Um. I just want to get this right… Kurusu-san?”

“There you go. Why don’t you try brewing a cup on your own? I’ll watch and correct you if you do anything wrong, but practice is the best teacher.”

Kiyoji nods and starts setting up the coffee machine, exactly the way Akira had just showed him how to do it. He’s a quick learner; Akira is impressed.

“Are you into coffee?” Akira asks.

“Oh. Yes?”

“You don’t have to be to work here.”

“No, not really. I like to drink it on cold days, though.”

“Probably better that way. I got real addicted in high school, can’t get through the day without it now. My boyfriend is the same way.”

Kiyoji fumbles with the machine and barely rights himself. He turns to look at Akira with an intense impression.

“So it’s true, then? The rumor that— you run this place with another man?”

Akira narrows his eyes. He’s hardly intimidated by a teenager, but it would suck to have to find another part-timer.

“Is that a problem?”

“No! No, that’s— that’s why I applied to work here! I’m— I like guys, and I wanted to— to have a place where I didn’t have to worry about people… finding out…”

Well. That isn’t what Akira was expecting. It also might explain why Kiyoji has been so desperate to make this work all morning; there are plenty of part-time jobs, but not a lot of as openly gay-friendly as Leblanc has become.

“Well, you’ve got it. You’re doing a great job, I’m definitely keeping you around.”

Kiyoji _beams_.

*

After that little confession, Kiyoji relaxes quite a bit. He’s still far more attentive and eager to do well that Akira could have hoped for in an employee, but he’s stopped jumping out of his skin every time Akira talks to him.

It might also help that Morgana has gone upstairs again. Akira has no idea what’s going on with Kiyoji and cats.

A few minutes before closing, another teenager walks into the cafe. It prompts an immediate response from Kiyoji, and not the same one he’d had to some neighborhood kids who’d come in earlier. Akira carefully puts down the mug he’d been washing to give this newcomer his full attention.

“Kiyo-kun!”

Okay. Cutesy nickname. Friend or boyfriend, then. Akira gives him a once-over. He’s got half of his head shaved in some kind of poorly-done undercut, and he’s wearing a medical face mask along with a shockingly green sweater. It looks like he’s trying to emulate some kind of punk style but only with things he’d already had in his closet.

“Chikara-san, I told you I’d call you _after_ I got off work—“

“The news said they’re thinking of closing down the schools until they can figure out why nobody’s getting over the flu. Thought you’d want to talk about it in person.”

Well. That’s a weird change of subject. Kiyoji’s friend looks pretty serious about this. It explains the face mask, if nothing else.

“They were talking about that this morning. Some kind of super-flu,” Akira says, leaning against the counter. Chikara looks a little startled that he’d spoken at all. “You kids got your flu shots?”

“Yes,” Kiyoji says, just as Chikara says “Nope”.

Kiyoji glances over at Chikara, who sighs.

“My immune system is too weak for vaccines.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. Let me treat you both to some tea before you head back out into the cold, okay?”

Kiyoji smiles, and in spite of the mask, Akira can tell his friend is smiling too.

Akira turns to start making the tea and hears Chikara whisper (too loudly) to Kiyoji.

“Dude, your boss is so nice.”

“He can definitely hear you,” Kiyoji says, exasperated. Chikara snickers and stage-whispers this time, much louder.

“DUDE, YOUR BOSS IS SO NICE.”

Akira laughs.

“Thank you,” He says. When he turns back to the kids with the cups of tea, Chikara is grinning from behind the mask at an annoyed-looking Kiyoji.

“You guys can take off. I’ll show you the closing procedures next time, Enomoto-san.”

Kiyoji bows in gratitude.

“Thank you, sir. For the tea and for— everything.”

“I’ll see you after school on Tuesday? Assuming you still _have_ school.”

“Okay!”

“And you watch out for your health, alright? Flu season is horrible even if there isn’t some nightmare bug going around.”

Kiyoji smiles and nods.

“We’ll be careful!” Chikara says, giving Akira a big thumbs up with the hand not holding his tea. Kiyoji looks like he’s barely a second away from rolling his eyes, but the look he’s giving Chikara is still pretty fond.

Akira decides that they’re both good kids.

*

“I’m home!” Akira calls into the apartment. There’s classical music playing, which means Yusuke is probably painting, but it’s worth the try.

Sure enough, there’s no response until he walks into the second bedroom they’ve been using as a studio. Yusuke is contemplating his newest work with intense focus and a frown on his face, and doesn’t stop until Akira walks up behind him and drapes himself bodily over his boyfriend. Yusuke jumps a little, but almost immediately melts back into the hug.

“Welcome home. I missed your presence today.”

Akira smiles and presses his face into the back of his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Missed you too. Want to hear all about the new kid?”

“Absolutely.”


	2. uneven odds

Tuesday is a slow day at Leblanc. Akira enjoys the quiet, as much as he’d like a few more customers. Yusuke has set up at the counter with a sketchbook, keeping him company. Akira is content to watch him draw, especially because he has his hair down today. Yusuke is almost painfully handsome with his hair out of the usual ponytail.

Kiyoji arrives right on time, still in his school uniform. Akira nudges Yusuke to get his attention.

“Good afternoon, Kurusu-san,” Kiyoji says politely, bowing before he’s even properly out of the doorway. Akira fights down an amused smile.

“Enomoto-san, this is Yusuke Kitagawa, my partner. Yusuke, this is our new part-timer.”

Kiyoji’s body language ticks up a level in nervousness, but Yusuke just smiles serenely.

“A pleasure to meet you, Enomoto-san. Akira was quite impressed with you; I’m glad we were able to hire such a diligent worker.”

Kiyoji visibly flushes and shoots Akira a grateful smile before looking back at Yusuke.

“Thank you, sir!”

“You don’t have to call him ‘sir’ either,” Akira says, chuckling a little. “You’re making me feel old.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Kiyoji says, bowing again.

“This kid is trying way too hard to impress you,” Morgana comments from his spot behind the counter. Kiyoji blushes and ducks his head. Akira is about to reprimand Morgana, but catches himself. Did Kiyoji just… respond to something Morgana said?

No, he couldn’t have.

Akira shoves Morgana off the counter.

“Hey!”

*

For a while, the day goes exactly how Akira had thought it would. Kiyoji gets far too intense about learning to make coffee, Yusuke volunteers as a taste-tester, Akira handles the actual customers.

Things take a sharp left turn into crisis mode around six pm.

It starts with a noise. It’s shrill, haunting and abrupt, like a horse snorting and a human screaming over each other. It seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time, and leaves Akira’s head aching and his stomach churning.

Yusuke stops drawing. Kiyoji swears under his breath and scrambles for his cell phone.

“Did either of you hear that?” Akira asks, one hand on his forehead and the other on the counter. He wants to sit down, but he has the feeling he’s going to want to be on his feet soon.

“Yes, and it was horrible,” Yusuke says, frowning. Kiyoji is on the phone, whispering urgently to whoever’s on the other end.

“It’s at the cafe. _Yes_ , I want you to come over, the faster the better— Okay. Okay. See you soon.”

And then he’s off the phone and hurrying into the back room, completely ignoring Akira and Yusuke. Akira exchanges a glance with his boyfriend and follows Kiyoji.

“What are you doing?”

Kiyoji gives Akira a pained look and starts pawing through his bag.

“I know this looks really unprofessional, but I _swear_ this is important—“

The neigh-scream sound echoes through the cafe, even louder than before. Kiyoji pulls a handful of tarot cards out of his bag, shoving them into the pockets of his apron.

“Shit shit shit,” He mutters frantically, pulling a switchblade out of the bottom of the bag.

“Is that a kni—“

The noise is back, deafening this time. Akira drops to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears against the pain.

When he opens his eyes again, there’s something in his kitchen.

It isn’t an animal. The size of a big dog, it has a face like a horse’s, but there’s something wrong about the underlying bone structure. There are ridges where there shouldn’t be, pushing up through loose, diseased skin. Its eyes are oozing something thick and yellowish, and the same fluid is dripping from its raw, gaping mouth. Its lower jaw has to be detached, the way its hanging. Its body is mismatched, almost like a rodent’s, with a long, hairless tail covered in open sores. Something under its fur is moving unnaturally.

When Akira can tear his eyes away, he realizes there are _three of them_.

“Pyro Jack!”

Kiyoji brandishes one of his tarot cards like a weapon. The familiar shape of Pyro Jack forms next to the refrigerator, accompanied by frenzied laughter from the Persona. Fire flashes around the creatures, pushing them back.

Akira recognizes the agi spell for what it is. His mouth drops open in shock.

Behind them, Yusuke and Morgana hurry to join the nightmare in the kitchen.

Kiyoji ducks out of the way of a return spell, which smashes into a shelf of mugs, which shatter.

“What is that thing?” Morgana screams, dodging back from the rain of broken porcelain.

“Plague rat!” Kiyoji calls back. He runs forward, knife in hand, and stabs it into the side of the creature’s head. He pulls in towards himself, ripping the flesh. There’s no blood, just more of the sickly yellow fluid. It smells horrible, even from a distance. The creature claws at its ruined face and screeches horribly before it starts to dissolve.

Kiyoji’s push forward to kill the first creature has given the other two time to flank him. One of them bites down on his leg, and Kiyoji screams in pain. The blood splashes onto the floor, but Kiyoji doesn’t panic. He slashes the thing across the face, catching both of its eyes. It lets go to screech and retreat, but doesn’t dissolve.

Akira grabs a kitchen knife. He’s long since lost his Personas, but he can’t let the kid fight by himself.

“Don’t touch it!” Kiyoji shouts, and doesn’t even pause to breathe before summoning Pyro Jack again. The plume of fire finishes off the one he’d already injured, but the third foe is coming in fast.

Yusuke smashes it over the head with a mug. The disgusting creature wavers, stunned, and is easily dissolved by another pass from Pyro Jack.

The moment all three of the creatures are dead, Kiyoji drops to the floor, clutching his bleeding ankle.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” He wheezes, the blood soaking through his pants and into his shoe. His whole body has started to shake and Akira very abruptly realizes what’s just happened.

“Did it poison you?” He asks, trying to take control of the situation. Kiyoji nods and whines, trembling harder as the poison kicks in.

“Yusuke, go get Takemi, right now—“

The door slams open, bells chiming violently.

“Kiyoji!”

Chikara is across the room in barely a moment, pushing past Akira and Yusuke and dropping to the floor by his friend.

“Hold on, buddy, I’ve got you, you’re gonna be okay, I’ve got you,” Chikara rambles, pulling a tarot card out of his pocket. He holds it out towards Kiyoji’s injured leg.

“Phoenix!”

The warm light of the Persona is accompanied by the familiar flash of a healing spell. Kiyoji’s shaking fades away, and the bleeding seems to be slowing. Chikara gently nudges Kiyoji’s hands out of the way and applies pressure to the wound. Kiyoji takes a few shaky breaths.

“Thank you, Chikara,” Kiyoji mumbles, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Is somebody going to explain what’s going on?!” Morgana demands, breaking the moment.

“Holy shit. That cat _does_ talk.”

“Told you so,” Kiyoji says.

“Let’s… wait on the explanation until everyone’s done bleeding, deal?” Akira says, already feeling the migraine coming on.

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” Yusuke says, heading into the bathroom.

This is going to be a long night.


	3. highlight reel

Akira leaves the carnage in the kitchen to lock the front door. Behind him, Yusuke has taken over the situation.

"Can you stand?" Yusuke asks Kiyoji, who makes a noise of confirmation. Akira is only away from them for a few seconds, but Yusuke manages to get him up on a stool by that point. Chikara hovers nearby, standing so close to Kiyoji that their shoulders bump. Kiyoji glances up at his friend and wordlessly puts a hand on his back. Chikara follows his lead and gives Kiyoji's shoulder a firm, nervous squeeze.

"I'm fine, Chikara," Kiyoji promises, while Yusuke rolls up his pant leg to look at the injury.

"I should've been here. I shouldn't--"

"You can't follow me everywhere, and I don't expect you to. You know that."

"You could have died, Kiyo-kun," Chikara says, a hint of hysteria underlying his voice.

"Alright, lets all slow down. What just happened, why did it happen, and how are you two involved?" Akira says, cutting the boys off before Chikara can really freak out.

"Oh, uh. That was the White Horse," Chikara says, holding his place at Kiyoji's side while he talks. "And rats, I'm guessing."

"Three of them," Kiyoji explains, which makes Chikara wince.

"Dude, Kiyo-kun, three of them? Seriously? In a small space?"

"I told you, I'm fine."

"What's the White Horse?" Morgana asks, leaping up to stand on the counter near Kiyoji. It puts the two of them nearly at eye-level. "We already saw the rats."

"Okay, I'm not explaining jackshit until someone tells me where you got the talking cat," Chikara says, poking at Morgana and quickly pulling his hand away when Morgana swipes at him.

"It is a remarkably long story," Yusuke says, gently dabbing at Kiyoji's ankle with antiseptic. Akira knows from experience that the stuff stings, but Kiyoji doesn't so much as flinch. His jaw looks a little tight, but there's no other indication that he's in pain.

"Is he a demon?" Chikara asks, squinting suspiciously at Morgana.

"No!" Morgana immediately protests.

"Not in the sense you're thinking, at least."

"Akira! Don't slander my name!"

"I actually don't really care about the cat right now," Kiyoji says, his voice a little tight. Yusuke is wrapped the bite in gauze now, and while Kiyoji is keeping it together, Akira can tell he's uncomfortable. Chikara seems to notice too, the way he's looking at Kiyoji.

"Just as well, we're quite used to him. I'm far more interested in the battle that just took place in the kitchen," Yusuke says, securing the gauze and standing up. "Let me know if you have any unusual pain."

"Will do," Kiyoji agrees, looking subtly relieved.

"So, uh, we've got this power--"

"Trust me when I say we know exactly what a Persona is."

"Wait, you do?" Kiyoji asks, sounding earnestly surprised.

"A number of the things we did as teenagers were both supernatural and not strictly legal, so you'll have to forgive me for not going into great detail. Just trust that we won't sell you out, whatever's going on," Akira promises. Kiyoji stares him in the face for a long moment, then nods.

"The White Horse is... I think it's a demon. It screams like that and then the monsters show up. We've only seen it in person once."

"Yeah, when it tried to steal my-- my soul, or whatever. It smells even worse than those rat things do."

"It was following Chikara-san around for a while, but recently it seems to go wherever it likes."

In spite of the flood of important information, it doesn't escape Akira's notice that Kiyoji has gone back to using honorifics for his friend.

"It talks to me," Chikara admits, like a confession. Kiyoji glances over at him, frowning worriedly. "About... my health, mostly. Sometimes about my family, or... Uh. It asked me about my sex life once, which was creepy, because its like, a demon horse or whatever. I think it was making fun of me."

"I never hear anything, but I don't think its talking in a regular way. It never mouths its mouth except when it screams."

"Ugh, I hate talking about this. I don't like the creepy maggot horse being able to just tap into my brain to insult me."

"Understandable," Akira sighs. "Are there more of you?"

"More of us? It's just Kiyo-kun and me."

"Well, we _did_ start out with just you and Ryuji..." Morgana says, looking at Akira.

"And the weapons?" Akira asks, as a followup question. Chikara grins proudly, but Kiyoji raises a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, like he feels a headache coming on.

"Oh, that was easy! There's this girl at school, Matsu--"

"She will kill you if she finds out you told anyone. Possibly literally," Kiyoji cuts him off. Chikara looks nervous for a moment, then shakes it off.

"Uh. This girl from school, whose name I don't know because I never told you this and know nothing, she runs a contraband trade. Turns out there's a market for expired painkillers, who knew?"

"I can't believe your mother hasn't noticed those are missing."

"My house runs on the honor code. Besides, this is like, the _one_ time my stupid immune system has actually been good for something, let me bask in it without worrying about my mom."

"Okay, fair," Kiyoji says, shrugging. "I'll be honest, we've been making this up as we go along. Those horrible rat things make people sick, but if we kill them, the people they were infecting get better."

"We were keeping up pretty well for a while, but its making more and more," Chikara adds. "They're talking about closing down the schools. Everyone in our homeroom class got sick from when it was following me."

"Except us," Kiyoji corrects.

"Well, yeah, but I've been using Posumudi near constantly to keep that up."

"True. Credit where credit is due."

Chikara grins and leans into his friend until their shoulders touch.

"Aw, Kiyo-kun, that was almost a compliment."

"Don't tease me in front of my boss, please."

"So you two have been hunting a demon that's giving people incurable illnesses."

"Yes," Kiyoji says.

"By yourselves."

"Yep!" Chikara confirms, cheerfully.

"Using weapons you bought from some girl at school."

"That's what we said, yes," Kiyoji says.

"How nostalgic," Yusuke cuts in, looking far more serene than he should.

Akira gives him a look, but he can't help but agree.


	4. it was before your time

Akira showered before bed, but he showers again in the morning. The tacky, putrid mess he cleaned off the kitchen floor last night is going to haunt his nightmares for weeks. Just the memory of the smell makes him want to rub his skin raw, just to make _absolutely sure_ there isn't any still on his body.

At least Yusuke is sympathetic. He sits on the bathroom floor with his morning coffee and his cell phone, giving Akira updates on their emergency meeting.

"Kotori is working today, so Ryuji has to bring Rika-chan."

"It's a Wednesday, why isn't she at school?" Akira asks, scrubbing his arms with exfoliating soap.

"Hold on, I will ask."

The bathroom is silent except for the running water while Yusuke texts Ryuji. Akira gives his hands another once-over with the soap.

"They've closed all the elementary schools until the flu outbreak is under control. He says the gym is closed as well."

"Yeah, he was complaining about that when we got drinks Sunday night, it's going to cut into his paycheck. Sakamotos aside, what's everyone else's status?"

"Shiho's sick, so Ann isn't coming. Haru's out of town but says we should skype her in. Futaba is on her way over."

"She still has keys to Leblanc, right?"

"I believe so."

"Makoto?"

"She has to work, she's going to have Futaba update her over the secure line after she gets off shift."

"Well, that's still more at once than I was expecting," Akira turns off the water and opens the glass door of the shower. Yusuke stands up and hands him a towel. "How do I smell?"

Yusuke chuckles and leans in to kiss Akira, mindful of the fact that Akira is wet and Yusuke is already dressed for the day. He still gets a little water on his sleeves, but no real damage is done.

"You've scrubbed away both the demon residue _and_ the coffee. It's almost unsettling."

"Five minutes in Leblanc should remedy that. I can't believe we're meeting up at the cafe to discuss Persona stuff again. It's been over a decade."

"With any luck, we won't have to rescue you from the police again," Yusuke says, almost a sigh.

"Nobody's going to sell me out this time. If anything, those kids are trusting _us_ not to turn _them_ in."

"I imagine this was how Sakura-san felt."

"God, I know. I'm going to bring him the biggest box of chocolates I can find the next time I see him."

*

Futaba beats them to Leblanc, and already has a skype call with Haru going when Akira and Yusuke join her. Morgana is sitting on the counter.

"There you are," Futaba says, hopping off her stool to give Akira a hug. She follows it up by punching Yusuke in the shoulder, so, no differences from their usual meetup routine.

"Hello everyone!" Haru's voice comes from Futaba's laptop. Akira smiles and waves, letting Yusuke crowd in close to the screen. If Ryuji is Akira's best friend, then Haru is Yusuke's.

"How has the conference been so far, Haru?" Yusuke asks, immediately forgetting their more pressing issues in favor of catching up.

"Oh, it's been _wonderful_ , I have so many samples to share--"

"Ugh, cafe management later. Don't we have an emergency to talk about?" Futaba asks.

"We should wait for Ryuji," Akira points out. "And... we actually have some people to introduce to you guys."

"Wait, I thought this was thieves stuff. Where did you get new people?" Futaba asks, frowning.

As if on cue, there's a knock at the front door. Akira steps away from his friends to let Kiyoji and Chikara in. Kiyoji is wearing a sensible winter coat, while Chikara appears to have layered three hoodies on top of each other.

"Good morning, Kurusu-san," Kiyoji says with a quick bow. Chikara peers around Akira to look at the small gathering of ex-thieves.

"Oh, new people! Hello!"

"Alright, I'll admit it. I have no idea what's going on," Futaba says, crossing her arms over her chest. Kiyoji glances around, eyes lingering on the laptop.

". . . You're the other Persona users. You asked if there were more of us, so you must have had reason to think we'd have a larger group. Yours was larger."

Futaba's mouth drops open.

"How does he--" Haru starts, but doesn't finish.

Kiyoji steps forward, letting himself into the circle. He bows again, before addressing the group.

"I'm Kiyoji Enomoto. I work here part-time. Last night, I killed a demon on the premises, and Kurusu-san immediately recognized my methodology."

Akira is a little taken aback by how polite and careful Kiyoji is with his explanation. It isn't really all that outlandish, if he'd had time to think ahead about how he would talk about this. Still, for a sixteen year old, that level of straightforwardness is surprising.

"You can't be serious. Akira, you hired a Persona-user? At _random_?" Futaba asks.

"Well, I'm certain he applied for the position..." Haru says, as though she was defending someone. Akira can't tell if it's him or Kiyoji she's standing up for.

"Hey, don't leave me out! I use Personas too! Or, well. One Persona. Kiyoji has a bunch."

This time, even Akira is stunned.

"You're a wild card?"

Kiyoji blinks at him.

"Uh-- yeah. That's what Igor called it, at least."

Just as the whole group starts talking over each other in response to that bombshell, Ryuji walks in. He has his six year old daughter on his shoulders, her black hair pulled back in a messy braid that was probably dad's handiwork.

"Damn, guys, what'd I miss?"

*

It takes them a few minutes to get back to something resembling calm. Chikara turns out to be the most useful of the group, eagerly accepting the task of babysitting Rika. They set up in a corner booth with a box of pokemon cards that, for some reason, Chikara already had on him. They seem to be inventing some kind of trivia game.

"He's remarkably good with kids," Yusuke comments, watching them from across the cafe. Rika is laughing at something Chikara said.

"Yeah, my little brothers love him," Kiyoji says, sipping the coffee Akira had just poured for him.

"Are we really talking about babysitting right now?" Ryuji asks. "I can't summon my Persona, how are we supposed to help? They're just kids!"

"You were their age when you did this," Morgana points out.

"And now I'm realizing how young we were. God," Futaba says, running a hand through her hair.

"Do we get to hear that story at any point?" Kiyoji asks, frowning at the group.

"Ever heard of the Phantom Thieves?" Ryuji asks, grinning.

"No," Kiyoji says, with no hint of recognition in his eyes. Ryuji visibly wilts.

"He wasn't even born yet, idiot," Futaba says. "We'll explain everything after you tell me more about this demon you've been hunting."

"It's called the White Horse. It makes people sick, and it's obsessed with Chikara, for some reason."

"Didn't he say something about his immune system, the first time we met?" Akira asks.

"Yeah, he's sick all the time. Some kind of genetic thing."

"Well, that'd certainly make him a good target for something that wants to make people sick," Akira says.

"It gave him his Persona, though. One second it's staring at him, going on about power, the next, Chikara is screaming and the horse is on fire. Why would it do that if it was trying to kill him?"

"That... probably wasn't intentional on the demon's part," Haru says, kindly.

"Or maybe it was counting on him joining whatever weird demon cult its recruiting for," Futaba offers.

"Then where did it come from?"

"The demon or Chikara's Persona?" Yusuke asks.

"Honestly, at this point, an answer to either of those things would be fantastic."

"Greninja!" Rika shouts from the other side of the cafe. Chikara cheers and high fives the little girl.

"He seems rather calm. How long has it been since you started doing this?" Yusuke asks.

"Maybe a month now? I honestly don't know how he's keeping it together. I get so nervous I could puke every time we go chase this thing, and he's just backing me up without a second thought. I'm... really glad he's the one I got dragged into this with."

"Did you two know each other beforehand?" Haru asks.

"Yeah, we're classmates. I was bringing him the homework when the horse came at us the first time."

"And you're sure there's nobody else out there?" Akira asks. The situation is clearly very different than the one he found himself in as a teenager, but he can't shake the fear that there's another Akechi lurking around.

"I wish there was. We could really use the help. You... said you can't summon your Personas anymore?" Kiyoji directs this question to Ryuji.

"After our thing finished up, I still felt mine for a while, but by now... nothing. Akira, what about you?"

Akira sighs and shakes his head.

"We'll all do our best to support you kids, but I don't think we can provide that kind of help. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, just having an adult to talk to about this is a huge relief. Chikara's great but..."

On the other side of the cafe, a six year old and a seventeen year old cheer in unison.

Akira thinks he knows exactly what Kiyoji means.


	5. at least it isn't nicaea

"Big brother!  Your friend's here!"

Taro's shrill voice only gives Kiyoji about three seconds notice before his bedroom is full of people.  Chikara is leading the charge, his grin hidden behind his medical mask but visible in his eyes.  Taro and Daisuke are just behind him, radiating the sheer glee of two elementary students who have an ally in their quest to annoy their eldest brother.

"Kiyo-kun!  You're... not wearing a shirt."

Kiyoji really wishes the prickling heat in his face wasn't there.  That would be just swell.

"Well, Chikara-san, we could probably have avoided that if you _knocked_.  Red oni, blue oni, begone."

The goofy nicknames are consistently helpful in getting his brother's to go away, but Kiyoji still flushes under Chikara's obvious amusement.

"Don't be an ass," He sighs, grabbing his t-shirt off the back of his desk chair.

"Sorry, big bro, but I'm the youngest of four.  I have an inborn drive to aid them in their endeavors."

"Don't call me that, it's weird."

"Kiyo-kun it is, then."

"I'll take it.  How are you feeling today?  Still up for a horse hunt?" Kiyoji asks, unlocking his desk drawer to retrieve his tarot cards.  He has almost twenty of them, and about half are skill cards.  They aren't making a trip to the velvet room today, so he only brings the summoning cards.

"Come on, don't start with that.  I'm fine."

Kiyoji gives Chikara a stern look but doesn't push.

"Alright.  Let me grab my coat."

*

Back when they first started hunting the White Horse, actually finding it was the easy part.  It followed Chikara around for quite a while, and after that tapered off, they started searching the places with the most intense flu outbreaks.

Enough of the city is sick now that that strategy doesn't work either.  They're flying blind.

The train is unsettlingly empty.  There's a girl about their age in a hello kitty hoodie sitting at the far end of the car, a few businessmen with newspapers or cell phones, and an exhausted-looking woman carrying a weepy toddler.  Kiyoji isn't used to having a seat; normally, he's crushed by commuters at this time of day.

"Even disregarding the demon, this is starting to get creepy as shit," Chikara says, mercifully quietly.

"We're running out of time," Kiyoji mutters, hugging his bag to his chest.

"Yeah.  Hey, you don't think that kid's sick, do you?  Her mom's wearing a mask but--"

"Chikara, focus.  The only thing we can do for her is kill this thing.”

Chikara sighs and drops his head into his hands.

“How are you this calm, dude? The news said four people have died so far.”

“Are you kidding? I’m freaking the fuck out. Just. Quietly.”

“Lend me your strength, buddy. Teach me your ways.”

Kiyoji snorts and gently elbows his friend.

“Shut up, Chikara.”

Before this can dissolve into the sort of mock fight Kiyoji usually has with his brothers, the car doors open and three people step in. Two of them are elderly, but there’s a teenager with them, and its someone Kiyoji _knows_.

“Oh. Hello, Kamisaki-san.”

Ichiru visibly startles when Kiyoji addresses him, grabbing the handle of his grandfather’s wheelchair to steady himself. There’s nothing unusual about this; he’s a jumpy guy. Kiyoji’s never seen him outside of school before, so the outfit takes some adjustment. He’s wearing the same white hair clips he always does to keep his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, dark eyeliner and a black peacoat. It makes him look like he’s going to a funeral in a music video.

“E-Enomoto-san! G-Good morning, hello!”

Ichiru turns gradually more red as he talks. The old women with him chuckles warmly.

“Icchan, is this young man a friend of yours?”

Chikara laughs at the nickname, and while its good-natured, Ichiru’s shoulders rise and he flushes darker. He stares down at the floor and doesn’t answer the old woman. Kiyoji steps up before the situation can get even more awkward.

“We’re classmates. I’m glad to see you’re in good health, Kamisaki-san, and your grandparents as well.”

“They aren’t my—“

“Why, thank you, dear. I’m glad our Icchan has such polite friends. Icchan, you should invite these boys over for tea.”

“Takeshita-san, I can’t just—“

“I keep telling you, dear, call me granny.”

Chikara is visibly trying not to laugh. Kiyoji understands the feeling.

“I’m sorry, miss, but we have somewhere we need to be. Maybe another time?”

“Of course, of course, you’re always welcome. Lord knows, Icchan needs to have more friends his own age. You know he spends his Saturday nights playing shogi with my husband?”

“Oh my god, don’t _tell_ them that—“

Chikara loses his battle against his fit of giggles. Kiyoji deems the situation has gotten embarrassing enough for poor Ichiru, and stands up at the next stop.

“This is us. See you soon, Kamisaki-san.”

“Huh? I thought we were—“ Chikara starts, but Kiyoji grabs him by the wrist and pulls him off the train.

“Kiyo-kun, we were going to check the end of the line first.”

“This is as good a spot to start as any.”

“Man, we really need to find a way to track this thing. Didn’t Sakura-san say their group had some kind of app?”

“Yeah, well. We don’t have an app. We have guesswork and google maps.”

“Did you check the app store?”

“The app store does not have a demon tracking app, Chikara, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m going to check the app store.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Kiyoji takes a seat on one of the benches, and Chikara follows him, completely engrossed in his phone.

“Found it!”

“You’re joking,” Kiyoji says, his voice flat.

“No, seriously!”

Chikara turns his phone around to show Kiyoji the app he’s downloaded. It’s displaying a cartoon devil with a suspiciously long nose and a string with a gemstone on the end of it. There’s a single button, labeled ‘begin’, under the words “Digital Diviner” in bubble letters.

“Don’t fuck around, Chikara.”

“Come on, we can at least try it!”

“This is clearly a joke app, we don’t have time to waste—“

Chikara pushes the button.

“`Lesser demons nearby: 47. Greater demons nearby: 1. Identification: The White Horse of the Apocalypse.`”

The mechanical voice that comes from the app stuns them both into silence.

“Holy shit.”


	6. down with the sickness

Chikara's stupid app turns out to do more than just list demons. It spells out their names in cheerful, childish hiragana, color-coded according to some arcane algorithm that Kiyoji couldn't even begin to understand. Tapping on one pulls up a map and a dot representing its location.

It isn't the same layout as google maps. In fact, it seems to be a map from the 1800s, demarcated by a spider web of fairy paths. Still, the natural landmarks all match up.

"Well. I guess we... go kill the horse now?" Chikara says, once he's grown tired of Kiyoji intently poking at his phone. 

"This could be a trap," Kiyoji suggests, eyes still trained on the app. The green dot representing the White Horse is barely moving, twitching back and forth as if the creature was pacing.

"Kiyo-kun, its a horse."

"Two weeks ago that horse asked about your last staph infection!"

"Being creepy and invasive doesn't mean its _smart_ , though. It hasn't done anything more clever than dodge since we've been hunting it."

"We should call Kurusu-san."

"I'm okay with this plan. It seems like it might increase our chances of like. _Not_ dying."

*

Akira closes Leblanc in a hurry. All these inconsistent hours aren't going to be good for business, or they wouldn't be, if ninety percent of his customer base wasn't home with demon flu.

Either way, it hardly matters. He tucks Morgana into his bag and calls Yusuke on his way out the door, heart pounding. Two teenage boys are about to fight what seems to be the embodiment of Plague, and they're doing it with switchblades and improvising.

Even he had Ryuji _and_ Morgana when he started out.

He meets up with Yusuke halfway to the train station. His other half is dressed down, with a smear of paint forgotten on his cheek.

"This is not enough notice for a major battle," Yusuke complains, by way of greeting. His hair is still pulled back in the messy ponytail he wears it in to paint when Akira isn't around to braid it. Normally, this is a look that makes Akira feel calm and content. Right now, it just makes Yusuke look fragile, like he's heading off to battle without his armor.

Which they are. Kiyoji and Chikara might be kids, and there might only be two of them, but at least they still have their damn Personas.

"We can lecture the kids later!" Morgana chastises.

The train is quiet and hugely at odds with the swell of dread in Akira's stomach. He has the exact address they're meeting the boys at, but he doesn't know what to expect when he gets there.

"Has Kiyoji responded to any of your texts?" Morgana asks, poking his head out of Akira's bag. Yusuke is standing between Akira and the handful of other passengers, so Akira doesn't worry about getting caught talking to his 'cat'.

"No. If they're in combat, they shouldn't, but that doesn't make me worry any less," Akira sighs. Yusuke reaches over to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze, and Akira shoots him a grateful smile.

"We'll help them. Admittedly, I'm not sure how, but we've always pulled through before," Yusuke assures him, and Akira just nods. There isn't much else they can say.

*

The White Horse's lair is every bit as disgusting as Kiyoji was expecting it to be.

The stupid divining app brought them to a bar right at the intersection of two of the fairy paths on the old map. For a brief, ridiculous moment, Kiyoji wonders how two high school kids are supposed to get into a bar at two in the afternoon. Chikara forges right ahead before he can even say anything, and cuts off that worry by gagging the second he gets in the door.

"Fucking shit, fuck," Chikara coughs, backing out of the door and holding both hands over his nose and mouth, even though they're already covered by his ever-present medical mask.

"Chikara?" Kiyoji asks, hurrying to his friend's side. Chikara wheezes for a moment, then gestures to the door in a clear 'look yourself'.

Kiyoji immediately regrets opening the door. The inside of the bar is horrific. From his current vantage point, Kiyoji can see four bodies. Some kind of thick mold is growing over them, making the whole room smell overwhelmingly sour. His stomach lurches and he covers his face, letting the door swing closed again.

"God, that's awful. Chikara, do you have an extra mask? I don't want to get spores from... whatever _that_ is in my lungs."

Chikara nods, still hunched over. After another moment of recovery, he opens his bag and fishes out another mask, which Kiyoji gratefully puts on.

"It doesn't help with the _smell_ ," Chikara warns.

"People are _dead_ , Chikara, we can cope with the nausea."

"Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Those were really people? Like, really real people? With jobs and families and-- and--"

Chikara breaks off with a hiccupy noise dangerously close to a sob. Kiyoji frantically tries to find something to say before his friend starts crying.

"Pull yourself together, buddy, we can do this," He finally settles on, internally wincing at how awkward it sounds. Still, it seems to have some effect, because Chikara takes a few deep breaths and nods twice.

"Okay. Okay. Yeah. I can do this. I can do this. We've got this. We've totally got this."

"Come on, then," Kiyoji says, aiming for a mix of authoritative and gentle. He probably gets it wrong, but when he opens the door, Chikara follows him.

The door shuts behind them, enclosing them in the dark, foul-smelling bar. The buzzing of insects is accompanied by the sound of something slick and slow moving nearby. The rot of the place is almost overpowering, and taking deep breaths does nothing to stop the inching panic. Chikara stays close behind Kiyoji as he steps through the bar, taking in their surroundings.

Some of the lights are on, he realizes, just so overgrown in mold that the light can barely penetrate it. There's an additional body slumped over behind the bar, a shattered sake bottle at its feet. The decay is bad enough that he can't make out if the person was a man or a woman.

What happened when the White Horse took this place as its own?

"Kiyoji," Chikara says, softly. The dread in his voice would be concerning enough even if he hadn't suddenly dropped the nickname. "I can feel it. Under my feet."

He turns and looks at Kiyoji, his eyes wide and terrified.

"It's in the basement."


	7. you tell 'em chikara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: there is a fairly graphic description of the White Horse in this chapter that may be upsetting, especially for people sensitive to body horror or maggots. The paragraph you'll want to skip starts with "Impossibly, Kiyoji had forgotten how grotesque it was".
> 
> Also, someone throws up in this chapter, but there's no description of it.

The smell in the bar was horrendous, but in the basement it's a physical presence. Kiyoji had always thought that was an expression, but the rot crawls along his skin and under his clothes before they're even all the way down the stairs. He hugs himself around the middle, pulling his jacket tighter like it might defend him.

Chikara is just wearing his stupid sweater, like he wants to challenge the winter to a battle of wills. It gives him an advantage down here, though, as the cold slowly gives way to a feverish, muggy heat. Kiyoji finds himself suddenly overdressed and sweating.

"I don't like this," Chikara mutters, taking hold of Kiyoji's arm once they've reached the base of the stairs. Kiyoji nods in agreement, though the lighting is so dim he doubts Chikara can even see him.

The basement is both better and worse than upstairs was. There are no dead bodies, but the sound of something slimy moving echoes through the place, compounding the dread and nausea. The floor has a slight give to it, and Kiyoji is afraid to think about that too hard. They're sounded on all sides by decay and disease.

He gives up all pretense of being unaffected and shakes Chikara off his arm so they can hold hands as they walk further into the demon's domain. There's no denying that they both need it.

There's movement at the other end of the room.

The horse screams. The horrible sound of it shakes through Kiyoji's bones and incites a rush of panic in both him and Chikara. They hurry to let go of each other and raise their weapons, which feel even more woefully inadequate here than they did on the streets.

And then it's upon them.

Chikara freezes. Kiyoji's stomach lurches and he gags, hastily pushing the medical mask out of his way before he throws up, the smell finally crushing his willpower.

He's only down for the count for about five seconds, but that's enough time for the horse to get close enough to reach out and touch.

Impossibly, Kiyoji had forgotten how grotesque it was. Its mouth hangs open, blood and pus oozing from cracked, blackened teeth. Its raw, pinkish skin writhes with maggots, so thickly infested with the things that the creature itself looks white.

The White Horse.

"Children of men," The creature's voice rasps through Kiyoji's ears. He can't pinpoint where the sound is coming from; the horse's mouth doesn't move. "He who has stumbled upon purpose and he who was chosen. I see you have not come to accept the gifts I have offered."

"F-Fuck no!" Chikara stammers. Even in the dark, Kiyoji can see his hands are shaking, the beginnings of tears in his eyes.

The horse steps forward. Chikara lashes out with his blade, driving it into the creature's neck. Thick, whitish fluid splashes from the wound, but the horse does not hesitate. It ducks its head and, before Kiyoji even has time to react, presses its long, festering tongue against Chikara's face and licks him, dissolving a strip of his mask and burning his skin.

"Chikara!" Kiyoji screams, reaching out to grab his friend and pull him back. As soon as he touches Chikara, his whole body goes rigid. He can't move, can only watch as Chikara stares into the creature's eyes.

"You would have made the ideal rider, Chikara Hirose. You are one with me already. How much has illness defined your very existence? What are you without the infections that crawl so easily through your veins? Is there anything else sewn into the fabric of your being?"

Kiyoji can see the tears spill over in Chikara's eyes. Through the contact that had paralyzed him, he can feel his friend trembling.

"You are nothing but an empty vessel for pestilence!"

Abruptly, Chikara jerks back, freeing himself from the horse's trance. Something about him is _glowing_.

"That is not what I am! You-- You don't get to define me! I do!"

Warm light fills the room as Chikara's Persona, Phoenix, rises up and closes its wings around its other self.

"I am a whole person! You can't dissect me into pieces and claim to know me!"

Chikara laughs breathlessly and Phoenix starts to shift, a humanoid form emerging from its radiant light.

"I have a life, and friends, and people who love me, and you're-- You're nothing but a fucking horse!"

Chikara's new Persona rises above his head, and Chikara grins, brilliant and joyful.

"I'm gonna burn the arrogance right out of you!"

Ra, god of the sun, reaches out a hand.

The White Horse screams.

*

Akira remembers the sound. How could he forget? The last time he heard it, demons ruined his kitchen.

He throws open the door to the derelict bar without a second thought. He's four steps inside before the smell even hits him, and even then, all he does is pull his scarf up over his nose and mouth.

"Oh, _ugh_ ," Morgana complains, hiding his little face down further in the bag he's riding in.

"I'm counting six dead bodies," Yusuke says, as they hurriedly give the place a once-over. The kids are nowhere to be seen. "They're too old and there are too many of them--"

The scream cuts him off.

"Basement!" Akira calls, and Yusuke follows him to the door. There's no hesitation in either of them, and Akira honestly can't tell if it's leftover from their effortless teamwork as teenagers or if this is just what it feels like to be the adult when children are in danger.

The basement is a disaster. The room is lit by burning demons and Persona attacks. Chikara and Kiyoji are fighting back to back, so close that they bump into each other when they brace themselves for attacks. The White Horse is in the back of the room, watching with its head held high as swarms of lesser demons converge on the boys.

He hasn't summoned a Persona since he was in high school, and he has no idea how to do it without a mask. Still, he reaches down inside of himself and _pulls_ , desperation thick in the effort. These are children, _outnumbered_ children.

And the power comes.

There is no voice in his head, only the empty space that voice once lived in. From that space, energy bubbles up and flows out into his body.

_Eiha._

He can fight after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a note on this chapter. A lot of non-Persona SMT properties (I'm using SMTIV: apocalypse and Devil Survivor as inspiration) have characters being capable of learning demon magic from their demons and using it themselves, independent of the demons it originally came from. While that isn't strictly what's happening here, that's where the idea comes from!

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @[xenosaurus](http://xenosaurus.tumblr.com)


End file.
